Tradition
by moomolie1709
Summary: Some rules were just meant to be broken, he would make sure of that.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Blaise/Luna is an uncommon, and unconventional pairing that's not really appreciated in the fandom. But I really do like them together, maybe give this story a chance? There haven't been too many stories about them, try it and maybe you'll like it?

**Chapter 1**

Once a year.

That was how often Blaise Zabini would see her. Same time, same place, under identical circumstances every time.

The annual tradition first started by mere coincidence, meeting on the Hogwarts Express before the start of his second year. His mother had recently announced her newest engagement, she was getting married to yet another pruned old man with plenty gold in his pocket. He loathed his mother's schemes, and was in no mood to socialize with his usual brooding group of Slytherins.

Before the train left the station, he hastily strode to the back of the train, glad to get away from the obnoxious sounds of his peers ready to head back to school. After launching himself into an empty compartment, he found the company of a petite, blond stranger with unusually large blue eyes.

It wasn't like him too seek solitude. Over the years, he had acquired a reputation as a hedonist and womanizer, ruthless and cold to nearly everyone that crossed his path. Cruel, calculating, evil, he had properly earned his title as a cold hearted bastard.

But it was on these rare yearly occasions that he left his world behind to spend an uncharacteristic afternoon of absolute silence, doing so while sitting across from the Loony Luna Lovegood herself.

Words were never exchanged between them, they just reclined without muttering a syllable. She sat and read her issue of the Quibbler, and he turned his head to watch the passing scenery through the glass window. Harmony perhaps, or friendly coexistence. Whatever label they put on it, it was still a comfortable, non-stifling quiet that proved far more tolerable than the useless chatter of his normal set of friends.

During the school season, they ignored each other. It was an unsaid, but mutual understanding to forget their brief encounters. As he rose in the ranks of popularity, she seemed to drown in them. He witnessed the teasing his housemates had tortured her with, but he neither instigated or stopped the bullying, he was impassive.

He couldn't pinpoint why, but he always came back. Every first of September, he would return to the same place in the same train. Every year the cart was abandoned, except for her and her strange radish earrings. He didn't question it when she did the same.

She wasn't alone anymore, she had a small collection of friends. Potter and his gang seemed readily available company, yet she was back every time.

They hated each other, or they were supposed to. The social circles they traveled in were more than enough reason to break the pathetic custom. But they didn't.

Today was different, it was going to be the last. She would be starting her sixth year, and he would be graduating with his seventh in spring. He wouldn't be there in the fall to share the same train ride alongside her.

"Hello," she greeted, her soft voice identical to his ears as it was last year. She had her face buried in the spine of another magazine, as per usual.

He opened the door to their cart, stepping in and placing his traveling belongings in the overhead shelf. He titled his chin up to acknowledge her welcome, but she didn't see it. Then again, it wasn't as if she would be expecting anything.

He was late, he had a harder time avoiding the insufferable Daphne Greengrass's neverending string of questions, her claws always digging into his side.

As the train jerked back, signaling its departure, he seated himself by the window across from her. With the aid of the rocking movement below, he leaned on the wall of the train, and closed his eyes. He closed off his mind as he prepared to enjoy the tranquil bliss for the next coming hours.

But then he heard the crinkling of paper, he ignored it.

A moment later came the humming, a lighthearted tune. She'd never done that before, she was always silent. So he let it pass and waited for her to cease.

But not even an hour after they had departed, and a crisp smacking sound interrupted his meditation. His eyelids shot open, revealing a menacing glare from intense ember eyes.

He was almost taken aback when he saw her staring back at him. She chewed innocently on a sinfully crimson apple, her pinkish tinted lips paling in comparison. Those wondrous, gleaming and unblinking eyes peered at him, it was unnerving.

It was then that he realized she looked different, quite different indeed. She could have been amongst the most curious of things Hogwarts had to offer, but she had become _very_ good looking.

The tangled mess of flaxen hair had been tamed, falling into perfect waves over her shoulders. He noticed how soft it looked, his abundant history of encounters with the fairer sex caused him to wonder how it would feel knotted between his fingers. She hadn't grown in height, but it was safe to assume she had matured in other places. Had it not been for her unmistakable pale eyes, or habit of reading the Quibbler upside-down, he would have passed her off for someone else.

She took another chomping bite out of her apple, never breaking the gaze between them.

"What?" he sneered, "Is there a reason you're staring at me?"

She tilted her head slightly in one direction, "No," she answered back flatly. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she rummaged through her rucksack, looking for something. He eyed the various objects that spilled out of her bag, a bundle of Quibblers, an absurd looking pair of spectacles, some Muggle contraptions he didn't recognize, and a worn notebook. He was about to read what was written over the cover when her small hand extended in front of him.

"Apple?" she offered a new one.

He stopped, looking at her, trying to understand what she was doing. It was a natural skill he possessed, interpreting those around him. Blaise was the type of intellectual everyone was scared to mess with, he had a penchant for carving out others' secrets and using them in the most hurtful of ways.

He clenched his jaw briefly, unable to comprehend her motivation for handing him a piece of fruit. The situation was foreign, she'd never done anything like this.

Before he could reason himself not to, he grudgingly accepted her gift.

"It's best to eat apples this time of year, you know," she explained, taking another bite, "One needs to build their immunity against those nasty Wrackspurts, especially you,"

He examined the food suspiciously, still puzzled by the gesture. But eventually he sunk his sharp teeth down into the flesh of the apple. After he swallowed, he questioned, "Why me in particular?"

He'd been mad enough to come back and spend his trips to Hogwarts every year with a complete nutter for the past six years. So why not enough to spark a conversation?

"Wrackspurts hinder your thinking clarity," she motioned around her own skull, hands flying about to indicate creatures running about in the air, "They make your head all fuzzy,"

She have might looked different on the outside, but the same personality stayed within.

"I hear you're going to be Head Boy this year," she mentioned casually.

He froze.

"You'll need to keep Wrackspurts away if you're going to be responsible for so much,"

Why did she even care? Eccentric Ravenclaws, always getting into business that wasn't their own. He resisted the urge to scoff at her concern, it was likely fake. Maybe she wanted him to favor her house, he didn't know.

"How do you know I'm going to be Head Boy?" No one knew unless they had been selected.

She shifted around a bit, "Hermione Granger is going to be Head Girl, she mentioned you were chosen as Head Boy,"

Blaise felt his grip on the apple tighten, so the dirty mudblood was going to be his counterpart for that year.

Her last comment made connection between Luna and the other blood traitors more pronounced. She might have been a pureblood, but she was on the wrong side. He felt his own prejudices boil over, but managed to keep them at bay.

He caught her staring at him without blinking again, it irked him. "Will you stop gawking at me? Have some manners," he snapped.

She looked into her lap, her half eaten apple resting in her hands. It was like she was embarrassed.

He almost felt guilt creep over his chest as she looked sincerely apologetic. She was known through the school for her social gaffes, it wasn't like he had to point them out.

In all honesty, Luna didn't understand why she couldn't pry her eyes away from him. Blaise Zabini had been part of the constant terror that reigned over her adolescent life. His kind had harassed her till no end,and if it hadn't been for Harry, she would have been subjected to even more taunting.

After Ginny befriended her, she always considered the option of leaving him alone on the train. He might even be more content without her. Their initial encounter was an accident, she was never obliged to come find him again. But each time she walked her way to the front of the train, her feet took their own path to the back for the reunion.

They didn't contact each other outside of the short span, and his presence was soothing.

She could see he wasn't like all the rumors painted him, he was different. Even though Ginny and Hermione despised him and his lot, she couldn't stay away. She knew if her friends found out she'd traded their cart for an empty one with Blaise, they would throw a fit. She was sure it applied to his side as well.

As the awareness that this would likely be their last meeting under the same circumstances dawned on her, she panicked. Before she could stop it, she had spoken to him. And he spoke back.

"Thank you for the apple," he growled stubbornly, breaking her thoughts.

In Blaise's eyes, everyone was a sinner. There was no such thing as good, everyone would eventually break their morals in order to reach what they desired.

But he was growing more frustrated by the second. He wouldn't admit it, but for once, he didn't since malice in another. Luna Lovegood was pure.

He couldn't bear the thought that he had hurt the feelings of someone so harmless, a sensation of guilt he never felt before.

"You're welcome," she beamed at him, glad to see he wasn't blatantly angry with her. She pulled out her ridiculous magazine again, reading it while creating a physical barrier between them.

He was thankful for it, and watched the scenery unfold as the train passed. They didn't say anything after that. For the remaining duration, it was just like the years prior.

When the train pulled into a halt, both knew the time to leave had arrived. Both had already gone and come back from the changing stalls, each clad in their respective uniforms. Slowly he rose to his feet, gathering his things and sliding the strap over his shoulder.

He spared one more glance as she bent over to collect her things, conveniently failing to look away when the back of her skirt inched north. He turned to exit, but he sensed her figure facing his.

He looked in her direction, she rigidly held her hand out to him.

He glanced at it humorously, she wanted to shake his hand. Maybe closure was something they needed to end the uncanny habit between them. He stiffly accepted her hand with his right, noting how tiny her hand and wrist were.

"It was nice to meet you," she saluted, "Goodbye, Blaise,"

He almost couldn't believe himself as he towered over her, this wasn't normal. "Goodbye, Luna," he responded, not even a hint of mockery in his tone.

Somehow a pang of sadness welled in his ribcage as he walked away from her, almost like he was losing an old friend. He shook his head as he remembered the obscenity of the befriending someone like her.

He stepped off the train without turning around to look at her again. It was like torture that day, not a semblance to what he wanted. He wanted a relaxing time to keep to himself, and instead he got four hours of worrying. Worrying about Luna Lovegood, what she was wearing, what she was saying, what she was eating.

"Zabini!" he heard a male voice call, "Where the bloody hell have you been? We've been looking all over for you!"

It was Malfoy, and he looked pissed. A mob of Slytherins followed, he wanted to kick Draco in the shins after spotting Daphne. No doubt she would drape herself over his arm now that he had been located.

"None of your business," he commented callously.

They glared daggers at each other, the tension evident. But after a while, they pull each other into an abrupt embrace. "Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence, Zabini,"

The rest of them gathered around to slap him on the back, but no one pressed him on where he had been. Everyone knew, and accepted the fact that Blaise disappeared off the platform, into the train, and magically reappear in time to head into the castle.

As they entered the gates, Blaise cringed. He saw an excited group come running from one direction, they hurried past him.

"Luna!" someone shouted.

Blaise gritted his teeth as glory boy Potter enveloped Luna in his arms before Ginny Weasley came over and ripped him off of her. Longbottom and the mudblood stood by waiting for their respective turns, all of them grinning like idiots.

He wasn't close enough to hear, but he knew what they were saying. He could tell all of them were showering her with questions. He'd have thought that by now they'd be bright enough to catch onto the fact she would never be with them on the train ride to school.

"Coming, Blaise?"

His companions waited for him to join them on the carriage.

"Yeah," he craned his neck back reluctantly. Tearing his eyes away from her had become far too difficult to feel dignified.

It didn't make sense, any of it. But maybe that was why it felt so good.

They told each other goodbye that day, but this wasn't the end, not by a long shot.

Once a year?

Now that was a tradition he was going to break, whether the rules wanted him to or not.

**End Chapter 1**

A/N: So, tell me what you think? Hate it? Need to see more to decide? I hoped you liked it, and thank you so much for reading! Please leave me a review if you want me to continue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Get out, Greengrass," he ordered sternly, evidently irritated with the tall blonde in front of him.

She put her hands on his chest, pretending to straighten out his robes affectionately. He ignored her, pushing the door behind her open, giving her a slight push into the hallway.

"Oh, come on Blaise. Don't be like this, just let me stay the night,"

They'd spent the majority of that evening fooling around. There were many advantages to holding the Head Boy title at Hogwarts, one of them was a private room. Unlike the rest of his peers, he could easily sneak girls in and out of his room without discretion. He was young, handsome, intelligent, if he wanted to mess around with Daphne Greengrass before his nightly patrol, then he would.

"I need to make my rounds tonight, you can't stay," he tried to sound sympathetic, but failed. The girl was nice to look at, but there wasn't much in her head to relate to. She'd been throwing herself at him for years, and he was willing to subject to her physical advances. She was an attractive young witch, and for all intensive purposes, he was a young wizard.

"I can just wait until you get back," she insisted. She lifted herself onto her toes so her lips could near his ear, "I'll sleepover. I promise you won't regret it,"

"Can't, Quidditch match tomorrow morning," he answered back flatly. He was growing impatient with her moping.

"Fine," she accepted bitterly. Blaise was always like this, cold, inhuman. He didn't show the least bit of warmth, not even with someone he'd been intimate with. In hopes to make him regret his actions, she sauntered down the hallway, swaying her hips without turning back to look at him.

Her leave would have been a great source of relief, had it not been the new presence that Blaise spotted across from his door.

Her pale blond hair had been pulled into a thick braid that rested on her front shoulder, her head tilted to the side. Neatly dressed in her school robes, she sat with her back against the wall, legs stretched straight out in front of her on the stone floor. A small pile of textbooks waiting in her lap.

Blaise stood still in his doorway bewildered for a moment, why was she there?

A week had passed since their goodbyes on the Hogwarts Express. He didn't look at her when he sensed her near him, and she did the same. They seemed to be avoiding each other as planned, until now.

The tall, dark Italian was about to ignore her, slam his door shut and go on with his own business. But as he was about to turn his heel, he realized an important piece of information. Her eyes were closed, her head dropping to one angle.

She was _sleeping_.

Curfew was about to start, and here Luna was, knocked out cold in front of his dorm.

It was the type of curious thing one couldn't help but wonder about. For a moment, he stared at her, unconsciously crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

Before he could stop himself, he thought of how pretty she was. The younger girl's beauty was subtle, but still very prevalent. He bit his lower lip his mind went through the possibilities of why a woman would be waiting outside a man's chambers in the late hours of the night.

But his ideas were interrupted, quite abruptly, by someone else.

"Luna!"

His eyes flicked to the direction the voice came from. Granger was running in a rather distressed manner down the corridor, down to the unconscious girl. She knelt down to the blonde and shook her shoulder.

"Hermione?" Luna looked up at her friend, bleary eyed, vision still impaired from drowsiness. She brought the back of her hand to her brow to rub her eyes and then smother her yawn.

Blaise restrained himself as he thought of how adorable her small antics were.

"I'm so sorry, Luna. When I changed our plans, I thought Ronald had already told you to meet me in the library,"

Blaise realized his own disillusions.

She wasn't sitting out in the hall waiting for him, but his neighbor. Hermione Granger, as Head Girl, carried the same privilege as he did. She got her own dorm, unfortunately, it happened to be located directly across the hall from Blaise's.

"What time is it?" she asked Hermione.

Blaise felt his eyebrows knit together as he thought of how long Luna must have been waiting there by her doorstep. Apparently long enough to doze off and fall into a deep sleep. Her so-called companions had forgotten about her completely. What made it worse was that Luna didn't seem to find any issue with it.

"Curfew's just started," the brunette explained nervously, "You should probably get back to your dorms. I'll help you study for your Potions exam some other time. If we get you back now, I won't need to take points away from Ravenclaw," she stood up and tried to help her friend to her feet.

Blaise would have condoned whatever it was they were doing and go on his way. He wouldn't involve himself in the petty happenings of two girls, a pair consisting of a mudblood and blood traitor no less. He must have lost his mind.

"That's favoritism, can't allow that now can I?" his deeper, masculine voice caught their attention immediately. Neither had noticed him looking on at the scene before. He felt the smirk on his face deepen, "I might have to deduct points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw,"

In an almost instinctive and protective motion, Hermione stepped in front of Luna. The strong glare she sent him made him chuckle in spite. Just as it looked as if she was going to say something, she grabbed Luna by the shoulders and steered her down the direction she had just entered from. "Come on, let's go,"

Luna was probably too disoriented from slumber to realize what she was doing, but as she felt her body turn, the connection clicked to who had been speaking before. Just as his image disappeared out of the corner of her eye, she mouthed almost inaudibly.

"Hello, Blaise,"

Maybe it was just because he wanted to get a wind out of Granger, but he answered back, "Hello, Luna,"

Hermione hadn't acknowledged the exchange, too concentrated on returning Luna back to her dorm. Blaise Zabini was always shady, but for some reason, it made her uncomfortable the way he was looking at Luna.

**-p-**

Tricky things, old rivalries. No matter how small or insignificant a discrepancy might have started out as, all tended to escalate to paramount proportions in no time.

The match was set between Slytherin and Gryffindor, the first Quidditch game of the season.

Each side had been heavily anticipating this day, it was not a competition to take lightly. Especially not when Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were facing off.

"Calm down, Malfoy. You look ridiculous," Blaise taunted him team captain, fitting the rest of his gear as he sat on a bench in the tents. He had been the last to change into his uniform, the dark green and silver colors suiting him quite nicely.

Draco had begun pacing back and forth like a madman since early that morning.

"The nerve Potter has, arranging a team like he has. He doesn't honestly think he can beat us, does he?"

They'd been mates for a while now, and Blaise had grown accustomed to Draco's personality. As disagreeable as they found each other, they were close. Both had bonded over a shared belief of pureblood supremacy and respect for the other's family and status. Each had been born into a world of pressure and expectation, having some major issues with their parents. They could relate knowing the other would understand.

"Here," Blaise tossed something quickly over to his friend, Draco caught it deftly. "Eat it,"

Draco made a face and looked at the object in his palm, "What the hell?"

"Just eat it," Blaise took a bite out of the side of his own.

"I'm preparing for a game, and you want me to eat an apple?"

"Clears the mind," he justified simply before digging his teeth into the fruit again.

"You've acquired some strange habits, you know that Zabini?" the lighter haired boy glanced over in his direction, and grudgingly took a bite.

The event was on the larger scale that year, each team's stands teeming with cheering housemates. Fans heatedly wanted their respected side to win. Banners of green and silver hung on one end, scarlet and gold on the other.

As the players flew into the arena, Blaise felt the adrenaline pump through his veins. He wasn't the type to jump into a fist fight, but he did love the rush of a good game.

Dynamic was all in Slytherin's favor, two of Potter's chasers had been knocked down early on. Terrible defense on their behalf.

On the other hand, Draco was doing a magnificent job. Their keeper hadn't allowed a single goal, with Blaise and the other chasers doing more in on Weasley and her like. He swore, Ginny had only gotten herself a place on the Gryffindor team with her 'connections' with Potter.

The outcome of the game seemed clear, and Slytherin was overflowing with enthusiasm. On the rare occasion that Blaise flew over the opposing stands, he spotted her.

There wasn't a more ridiculous sight he had witnessed in his seventeen years.

A Ravenclaw, lost in a crowd of barbaric Gryffindors, with a massive headdress that looked to belong an animal collector. Despite the fact that the paper mache lion head swallowed her skull completely, he could still recognize her.

Odd how he could, because it wasn't like he was looking for her. She just suddenly jumped out at him.

"Zabini, pay attention!" someone shouted.

He looked up, barely avoiding a collision between a violent Bludger and his head.

Morale had lowered significantly since the beginning of the match. But Luna sat contently in the stands. Hermione apologized to her all the way back to the Ravenclaw Tower last night, and all during breakfast that morning. Ron continued to shove bacon done his throat whilst dodging strikes to the head from his sister and girlfriend. He'd told Luna he was sorry, while muttering that Ginny was supposed to remind him under his breath. When she told them it was fine because she was going to study for her exams during the day anyway, the entire table looked about ready to have a heart attack.

They invited her to the Quidditch game, all of them joking and admitting that they didn't think they needed to ask. Harry had assured her that it was a good thing, they were all close enough to support each other without needing to be reminded. Luna didn't understand what he was saying, but was excited nonetheless.

It was nice, to have friends.

But while she sat in the bleachers, trying to concentrate on the happenings of the game, she found herself entirely distracted. She was supposed to look at how Harry, Ginny, and Ron were playing, but her unblinking blue eyes trailed over to a certain Slytherin.

He was beautiful. His facial features were attractive enough, but his pull only heightened when combined with his tall, athletic build. He might have carried himself haughtily, but one couldn't resist the urge to plainly admire his vanity.

For purely aesthetic purposes of course.

"I don't think this is looking good," Hermione said in a hushed tone, not wanting to state so openly in a pit of Gryffindor fans.

She looked up as he went by on his broom, from an analytical point of view, he was a better rider than most others on his team.

"Watch out!" Luna whispered harshly, almost involuntarily as she watched a ball nearly crash into his head. He probably hadn't heard her over the noise of those around her, but still managed to avoid injury, moving away at the last minute. She couldn't remember the last time she raised her voice like that.

The heaviness weighing down her head slipped off as she leaned forward, the lion head falling onto the floor next to her feet. As her eyes became visible, they made contact with his.

She felt an arm clamp down on her shoulder, "Hey, Luna, are you all right?"

It was Neville, he and Hermione looked more than concerned at her outburst and expression of panic. Others around them hadn't noticed, but they did. For a moment, Luna had been scared that Blaise would have been knocked off his broomstick. They sensed her sudden divergence from her usual dreamy disposition with confusion.

Before she could answer them, applaud erupted around them. Everyone had jumped up, standing up and clapping loudly. Luna and the rest of the stadium looked up ahead.

Harry Potter had caught the snitch.

**-p-**

Uproar and unrest were ways to describe the Slytherin House that following afternoon. While no one on its team had sustained any proper wounds like Gryffindor had, its pride had been devastatingly plundered. Humility was the last item on their agenda.

They were supposed to win.

They were going to win.

But like always, it was precious Potter who got in the way.

Always Potter, _always_ Potter. They were sick of it.

The smoke of depression seemed to envelop everyone's lungs, no one wanted to speak up.

Draco was fuming by the time the crew gathered in Blaise's room. The group consisted of all upperclassmen; Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and of course to Blaise's chagrin, Daphne Greengrass.

Draco threw himself on the seat by the far wall, his uniform unkept, white sleeves rolled up and first buttons undone. Parkinson draped herself over his shoulders, thinking it would help to calm his nerves.

"We had them! How could we lose?" he put his hand over his face in frustration. Gryffindor never even scored a point, they were a pathetic excuse for a team. Had it not been for that last miraculous second at the end of the game, victory would have been theirs to claim.

"Want to take the edge off?" Blaise asked calmly, he was never one to lose his temper.

"What, you going to hand me another apple?" he sneered.

He ignored him, pushing past the rest of the crowd. "No," he went to the cabinet in the corner of the furnished room. He pulled out a generous bottle of firewhiskey. Greengrass handed him a number of crystal glasses without having to be asked, they all knew how difficult Malfoy could be when he got in his moods.

Blaise poured everyone a share, shoving the expensive ware onto a small table in front of the seats that everyone had hopped onto.

"Zabini, what was with you out there anyways? Nearly being taken out by some bloody Bludger, you weren't even looking," he downed the liquor.

A murderous tension settled over as Blaise took his seat in a leather chair, coolly crossing his legs so his ankle rested over his knee. He leaned back, raising the glass to him lips.

"Don't blame Blaise, no matter what he would've done, Potter still caught the snitch," Nott interjected.

"Are you putting this on me?" Draco snarled, still in the process of calming down. It was after all, Malfoy's responsibility to capture the golden winged ball before the other team.

"Stop, Malfoy,"

Everyone looked up at him again, silence brewing all over again.

Because while most in Hogwarts could say Draco was the nastiest student in school, a heart made out of ice, those within the inner circle knew better. If one was to choose one of the Slytherin Princes to of tick off, it wouldn't be Blaise Zabini.

"They'll get what's coming to them," He held up his glass again, arm in the air. It signaled the others to follow him, "To making Potter's a living hell," he toasted.

They looked at each others faces, heads bobbing from Draco to Blaise. Wicked smirks crossed their lips as they saw Malfoy's look of agreement, "Cheers,"

**End Chapter 2**

A/N: Wanted to get a new chapter up ASAP to give a better idea of where this story is heading. I wish more people would try Blaise/Luna. Comment or review if you want me to continue.**  
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